Love Sunshine

I can see a tunnel at the end of all these lights

Well, this is a cracking start to spring. A whole week of the golden stuff to lift the hearts of the nation in these depressing times. It certainly put a smile on most people's chops, and did its usual magic of making even we Brits spring in our steps. It also made the story of my new appointment as Thomson's Dr Sunshine eminently newsworthy, and I spent all Friday talking to radio stations up and down the country about why sunshine makes us happy, and what being Dr Sunshine involves.

That's Dr Sunshine. Not 'Mr' Sunshine, as one presenter - I forget which in my whirlwind tour and indignation - termed me. I was that close to retorting, in Mike Myers' Dr Evil Voice: 'That's Dr Sunshine. I didn't spend 6 years in sunshine school to be called Mr'. But I didn't. The thrill of live radio for me is the risk that I might just say what I shouldn't, but I managed to rein that retort in, and do a credible job of bestowing due dignity to my important new post.

I also feel I need to make perfectly clear that being Dr Sunshine doesn't mean I'm suddenly of a sunny disposition. A few friends thought it hilarious that this curmudgeonly old so and so, was now called Dr Sunshine, as there was generally precious little of it shining from any part of me for most of the year. Therefore I would like to clarify: my role is to explore it, assess it, grade it and help promote it. It's possible that in the process the high-grade sunshine may very well dispel the cloud-like melancholy that envelopes my sensitive soul. It remains to be seen. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed spring. Let's just hope that wasn't our summer, as so often happens. I for one, am taking no chances, and look forward to my first consignment...